Treacherous
by Kailey Hamilton
Summary: "Remus's grimace has blurred into oblivious acceptance, and you try to differentiate between his duty and his choices. Fear is everywhere, hiding behind the longing that won't leave you alone. One moment he's kissing you, the other he might be leading you to your death." Wolfstar. Oneshot.


_Notes: For **Liza (NeonDomino)** for the Gift-giving Extravaganza. I went through a moment of extreme frustration about wartime shenanigans, and it somehow translated into angsty Wolfstar._

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 **Treacherous**

You don't ask, he doesn't tell. But you know, don't you, Sirius? Shredded t-shirts and circles around his eyes betray his unyielding face. There's fury, there's calm; there's madness and there's sense. And then there's Remus after he's spent some time with the werewolves.

Silences are heavier than you're used to.

There's sudden silence as he turns off the water in the shower; he's getting ready to sleep as you get ready to leave. But you're not going anywhere, not yet, not when you've been waiting for this moment for weeks... so you close your eyes and listen as he brushes his teeth. You listen as the door opens, then closes behind him. You stop listening and open your eyes, and there he is - a shadow of what he used to be, a ghost that won't speak of his past lives. You idly wonder if he thinks the same as his unblinking eyes take you in.

Shouldn't you know which one of those scars is recent? Haven't you memorized every inch of his surface? Back then... back in school, you could tell which scars were recent. There were favorites as there were some that broke your heart. They were paths for your fingers to trace, for your eyes to walk on. Now you want them gone and away; you want Remus to yourself. You want him whole, pure, happy and willing to give himself to you. He can trust you; you'll catch him when he falls. He has done the same for you, time and time again.

Things have surely changed.

You don't ask, he doesn't tell. You pretend not to watch him as he gets dressed. This t-shirt doesn't have any holes, and it's so loose on him that you're forced to recognize he's all bones and skin. Remus smirks when he catches your sideways glances... and once again, he's just Remus. Snarky Remus; cheeky Remus. The Remus that has you wrapped around his little finger.

Absences are longer than you're used to.

Your bodies find each other around each other faster than light, stronger than gravity. He bites your lip and you wonder how many times have his fangs pierced flesh. You try tasting blood beneath his minty toothpaste and his prodding tongue. All you get are his chapped lips tensing against yours in a smile, and you want to forget for a minute there that he could be lying, he could be someone else entirely... you want to give in. But neither of you can. You're too distrustful and Remus... Remus might as well be Remus. He might be lost in his own little world of self-hatred. Or he might be lost to you forever.

You don't ask, he doesn't tell. His hands almost grab at you, _claw_ at you without restraint, driven by the most primal instinct . Chills run up your spine and heat takes a hold of your limbs; you're nothing but his faithful puppet to be toyed with. His skin against your hands feels like clouds, a slice of heaven... and you're lost, Sirius. You don't want to stop him because it feels so good. You should, because it feels so wrong. Remus's mind is out of reach and the only thought, the only idea coming through to you is that you're an oasis in his desert and he is drinking you dry.

Kisses are hungrier than you're used to.

His hands clutch your hair; it hurts but his hoarse _I miss you_ sends shivers down your spine. You grunt, then vaguely tell him that you need to be somewhere, you needed to be somewhere twenty minutes ago... too bad you can't even remember. He raises an eyebrow; _good to know you've missed me too._

Oh, but you have missed him, haven't you? Remus, your anchor of normalcy in a chaotic world. You've missed holding onto his thin frame like life depends on it. You've missed his dry lips and his skilled hands, skin against skin and words uttered for your ears alone. Going to sleep alone reminds you of late-night conversations, of shared laughter and those naive dreams you used to have. You've missed Remus with every fiber of your being, and now he's there, you miss him even more. Because you can't believe those _I love yous_ charged like weapons, falling empty on your ears.

You don't ask, he doesn't tell; there's fog between the two of you. It gets denser, clammier each time he leaves. Remus's grimace has blurred into oblivious acceptance, and you try to differentiate between his duty and his choices. You know nothing. Lies blend into truths with ease. Fear is everywhere, hiding behind the longing that won't leave you alone. One moment he's kissing you, the other he might be leading you to your death. You will never know.

Times are tougher than you're used to.


End file.
